The Last Skywalker
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: "The war is ended. The Resistance is disbanded. But I will not be the last Skywalker."


**The Last Skywalker**

Three decades ago, Endor had been a battlefield. Now, more than thirty years after the battle that signalled the beginning of the end for the Galactic Empire, the scars of that battle remained.

When people said "Battle of Endor," what usually came to people's minds was the fight that had raged in space. Or at least, it was what came to Rey's mind. Growing up on Jakku, looking up at the stars, there was more inspiration for her to think of the wars among the heavens than what occurred on soil. But now, walking beneath the trees of the forest moon, she reflected that she'd undersold what had happened here. Because here, she could see the evidence of the battle – far more than what there'd been in space. She'd seen the ruins of the field generator. She could still see collapsed AT-STs, covered in rust and leaves. She could, if she looked hard enough, see the scars of laser fire. The trees of Endor had stood here for hundreds of years, and Force willing, would remain here hundreds of years more. But they'd always carry the scars. The galaxy would carry the scars of the constant wars that plagued it. Where the Dark rose and the light met it. Where the Light faded, and the Darkness rose to subsume it. Walking beneath the trees, she knew she was at the end of the cycle. At the end of this journey. Perhaps, she dared to hope, the end of all things.

No great battle to signal the death knell of the First Order. If the Empire had fallen due to losing its head, the First Order had fallen through a thousand cuts. Now, all that was left was this. This moment, beneath the trees. No ewoks this time. No song of bird, no cry of beast. Just the soft sound of her feet upon the soil, walking through the forest under the setting sun. Following neither sight nor sound, but rather sense. Towards the maw that existed on this moon, drawing everything into it.

She found him easily enough. He was standing there, still wearing the dark robes of a Sith. Still wearing his mask. Standing there with his back towards her.

"Ben."

He continued to stand there, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She let her hands finger the lightsaber, before reminding herself – she could never strike first. A Jedi used the Force for defence, never for attack.

"Should I address you by title, or by name?" she asked.

He said nothing. He just stood there, his cape fluttering in the wind.

"Ben Solo. Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader."

"None of those are my name." He looked round at her – his eyes were hidden behind the mask, and his voice was muffled as it had been when first they'd encountered each other. "My name is Ben Skywalker."

"No. It isn't."

"I carry the blood of Leia, Anakin, and Shmi. I am the last of the Skywalker bloodline." He turned round and faced her fully. "Have you come here to end me Rey? Do you offer forgiveness, or the blade?"

"War's over Ben. You lost."

"Really. And who won?" He whispered. "The miscreants and terrorists you call friends? The cowards who sat on the sidelines before being assured of victory? The people who will take power and drag the galaxy into stagnation again?"

Rey said nothing.

"If you offer forgiveness, I want none of it. If you want to save my soul, I reject salvation. And if you offer the blade, I will raise by own to meet yours."

"Then what do you want?" Rey whispered.

He just stood there. His face was hidden. His mind was shuttered. His presence was a miasma upon the Living Force. The Force which called to her to end it. To strike him down. The Force whose whispers she ignored, even while the Light was silent. Still she stood there. Watched as he glanced round to the clearing.

"This is where it ended," he whispered. "This is where it began."

"What?"

"This is where my uncle burnt the body of my grandfather," Ben whispered. He knelt down, and Rey watched as he picked up some soil in his hand. "I found his helmet here. Burnt in the fire, but not purged. And I understood the lesson – the Light will never get rid of the Dark entirely. The Dark remains, no matter how bright the Light shines. Indeed, the brighter the Light, the darker the shadow. How else does history repeat itself this way? The Sith, the Empire, the First Order? Always, coming back to this moment." He watched as the wind blew the soil away. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, upon the pyre that we call the galaxy." He stood up and looked at Rey again. "One way or another, we will live in ashes."

"Says the person who wanted to burn it all down." She frowned, before saying, "I know why you took the name of Skywalker."

Ben said nothing.

"I know that you could never suppress your uncle's legend. That the people who rose against you had Skywalker upon their lips. I know as you sat upon the throne, at some point, you took that name, in a bid to declare yourself a true master of the Force."

"You presume much."

"Perhaps. But I know it's over. History will remember the First Order as incompetent fanatics, and it will remember you as a monster."

Ben chuckled.

"What?"

"How else could it end?" he asked. "My grandfather was a monster. My uncle was incompetent. He sought to burn the monster, and let his sister raise one to take his place."

Rey said nothing. Ben, the Supreme Leader, the Master of the Knights of Ren, said nothing. Not even as he took off his helmet and tossed it aside. To where once there was a pyre. The monster had taken off his mask, and all that remained was the child. One who flipped part of his cape aside, revealing the lightsaber in his belt.

"You don't have to do this," Rey said.

Ben sighed.

"I couldn't save you on the _Supremacy_. But…" She extended a hand. "I'll offer this to you. This final time."

"An offer from the last Jedi?"

"An offer to save you from being the last of your bloodline."

"Bloodlines. What would you know of them? You, who was cast aside by your own flesh and blood?"

"Nothing," she whispered, fighting the hurt that still gnawed away at her with those words. "But I know that this doesn't have to end with a second pyre."

Ben said nothing. He reached for the hilt of his lightsaber, taking it, but not drawing it out. Rey, for her part, kept her hand extended.

_Strike him down._

She ignored the voice. The Dark whispered.

_Strike him down now!_

The Light remained silent.

_Strike him down and end the war!_

She still resisted. The Dark was defeated, so it sought to taint her in its place. To hasten its return.

_He has killed, he has tortured, he has betrayed. He deserves the fate of Anakin Skywalker._

The Dark whispered, and still, the Light was silent. Small wonder she reflected that the Dark returned so readily.

"I wish you could see yourself," Ben whispered. "The way I see you."

She said nothing.

"The tree. The soil. The bird, the beast, the warmth of the sun, the life of the air, the beating heart of this world. In the centre of it all, you. The connections within, between, beyond, all coming back to you." He smiled. "You're beautiful."

She said nothing.

"But I know that you see me, and indeed, I've seen myself. All coming back to be to be subsumed. The darkness beneath the world's heart. The cries of beast and bird. Decay of tree and soil, the chill upon the wind." He drew out his lightsaber.

"Don't do this," she whispered.

He activated it, and for a moment, Rey was surprised. His blade hissed, but it didn't sputter. It looked little different from a normal lightsaber, even one used by a Sith. It looked…at peace. The same way Ben did.

"I know you're here," he whispered. "No tricks this time. No circumstances that force one of us to flee. Before the sun sets, there will be body on the soil either way."

She said nothing. Though she clutched the hilt of her lightsaber.

"Will you stand there?" he whispered. "Will you let me strike you down, so that I may thrice damn myself?"

She activated the blade and held it in front of her. "No," she whispered.

Ben said nothing, even as the tear trickled down his cheek.

"This should have been yours," she whispered.

"You fixed it though," he said, and he gave a small smile. "I suppose living among scrap makes you good at that."

"It might still be yours if you drop the blade you currently hold."

Ben scoffed. "And play the fool who casts himself upon his own sword? No." He adjusted his pose. "The war is ended. The Resistance is disbanded. But I will not be the last Skywalker."

Rey said nothing. She would give him the benefit of the first strike.

"But if my words are hollow, I bid you that…" He trailed off, glancing at the clearing behind him. "Bury me there. Or burn my body." He returned his gaze towards her. "That is my last request."

"Ben…"

He charged forward. The Dark surged towards her.

And repeating a cycle older than either of them, the Light rose to meet it.

* * *

_A/N_

_So the trailer for Episode IX came out, and everyone and their mother is asking what "The Rise of Skywalker" refers to. I'd say this was my take, but after writing it, I did come across a theory that I actually like, the idea of "Skywalker" being used as a title rather than a surname for Force-users. At the least, it would fit the trilogy's cycle, where we go Sith-Jedi-? (also with a word beginning with "r" in said titles). But whatever the case, drabbled this up._


End file.
